Yes and No
by Ezra Quinn
Summary: AU in which Dean says yes to Michael, Sam says yes to Lucifer, and the conflict builds up into the final battle: Michael vs. Lucifer. [Complete character list: Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Castiel, Dean, Sam, Bobby]
1. Yes

Michael stood slowly, and turned to survey his surroundings. Zachariah was standing at the other side of the white and gold room with a calm, cool smile on his face. Michael looked down at himself, at the worn blue jeans and boots, the old shirt soft with age and thin from wear, and the leather jacket that smelled like a bar.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the strength in index fingers accustomed to pulling triggers, the calloused palms, and a few knuckles that weren't quite right from being broken one too many times. It wasn't his true form, but it was still his true vessel, and a far better fit than the Winchester he'd occupied previously. He could feel the family resemblance between the two men, and he thought of his own father, The Father.

Zachariah approached him cautiously, and quietly addressed him: "Michael."

Michael raised his head, and when he met eyes with the other angel, replied evenly, "Zachariah. Thank you for your help." He nodded, and Zachariah respectfully bowed his head before flying off to give word to the other angels.

"Thank you, Dean," Michael said aloud. He could have communicated with Dean internally, but he knew that Dean would prefer audible conversation. The eldest Winchester was crouched in the back of his mind, still having difficulty adjusting to the new arrangements, but adjusting nonetheless. Michael assured him, "I will keep my word. When this is done, you will once again have this body as yours."

Turning his attention away from the vessel, Michael shut his eyes and took a deep breath before turning calm green eyes up towards the sky. He was standing outside the abandoned warehouse now, and he spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Father, I have followed the path you have laid before me. I have taken my true vessel, and simply await my brother's occupation of his own. Lucifer disobeyed you, Father, and still defies you now, even after being punished. I will carry out your will in the interest of the humans and punish him again, as it has been foretold, and I hope he will see the error in his ways." Michael paused, and added almost hesitantly, "There are others who have begun to doubt you in your absence. I am uncertain what you would have me do, Father, and anticipate orders from you to guide my course of action."

Green eyes searched the sky, without actually looking, until the sound of wings caught his attention. He turned towards the warehouse, and saw Castiel step outside. His posture relaxed for a fleeting moment when he saw the body of Dean Winchester standing in the parking lot, but stiffened again when he recognized Michael.

Castiel hadn't reached Michael yet when Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer emerged in a panic from the warehouse. Sam saw Michael before Bobby did and called out Dean's name urgently before running towards who he thought was his brother.

Castiel held an arm out to stop Sam, but kept his eyes fixed on Michael as he explained, "He's not Dean. It's Michael." The younger Winchester's face fell in disbelief, but it clouded over in grim acceptance when he noticed the altered body language. Bobby Singer stumbled beside him, simply staring suspiciously at Michael.

"Castiel," Michael greeted the perplexed angel who stood before him. He could see the conflict in Castiel's eyes, and could easily guess the cause. "You wish to speak with Dean." Castiel had been debating whether or not to express his wish, but now he nodded tensely. "I can't allow that, Castiel, you know that."

"Yes you can," Castiel replied, his blue eyes searching Michael's new face like it held a clue or a secret he desperately wanted to uncover.

Michael had been looking calmly at Castiel, but an eye twitched, and Castiel's stare into Michael's face intensified tenfold. The archangel looked startled, and then something stirred behind his eyes and suddenly Castiel was standing beside Dean.

"Dean!" Cas reached out and grabbed his arm, and Dean reciprocated the angel's grip.

"Cas…" Dean was clearly struggling for control, but he managed to choke out, "Tell Sam… I'm sorry…" and with a grunt and a gasp, Dean was gone and Michael was back. He released Castiel's forearm, but Castiel still held fast onto Michael's.

"There was no need for that, Dean," Michael said coolly, as if he'd never lost control, eyeing Castiel's hand on his arm until it let go. "I fully intended to pass your message on to Sam."

When Dean had wrestled for that brief moment of control, Sam and Bobby had hurried forward, but by the time they'd reached him, he was gone again. Sam had heard his brother's message, and his jaw was set, but a muscle was twitching by his temple as he stared down Michael.

"Your family has no business tearing mine apart," Sam muttered through gritted teeth. Bobby put his hand on Sam's shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Doesn't it?" Michael asked calmly, "You have more in common with my brother than you are willing to admit, Sam. It's best for everyone if you accept that and assume your role as Lucifer's vessel."

"Best for everyone? Or best for you and your damn feud?" Sam demanded, and Michael simply sighed and turned, disappearing with a flutter of wings.


	2. A Warning

Michael looked up at the overcast sky that hung over the run-down Detroit neighborhood, and sighed before turning his attention to the seemingly abandoned apartment above a Chinese restaurant. The light was on in the second floor room with a bay window overlooking the street, and Michael glanced back up at the sky once more before stepping inside.

There were a pair of demons stationed at each doorway and stairway landing. Michael didn't even look at them as he gripped their faces and killed them, determinedly ascending the creaking wooden stairs to the room with the light on.

When Michael stepped into the doorway, he found his brother standing by the window, his temporary vessel tattered and wearing at the seams. Lucifer turned slowly and was visibly taken aback at Michael's appearance. The other angels had been notified of Michael's acquisition of Dean Winchester, but Lucifer had long since been removed from the mailing list for those memos.

"Look at you in the shiny new vessel," Lucifer's mouth twitched into a smirk as he started to approach his brother, but then thought better of it and kept his distance. Rather than circling Michael, he paced by the window, dirty fingers stroking his stubbled chin as he appraised his brother's new form. "It's a perfect fit too. You must've had it tailored. By the way, how's Dean doing in there?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively and tapped the side of his head. "Mine's been quiet of late. Screamed himself hoarse, I'm afraid."

"Lucifer—" Michael began, but his brother interrupted.

"You've got your vessel, but I haven't got mine, and I'm sure you've noticed that this one isn't holding up so well," Lucifer flexed his wings uncomfortably and peeled one of the scabs off his forehead before continuing, "So you've come to finish me the easy way, have you, Michael? Finally tired of living up to those moral standards you've always been so uptight about? Have you accepted now," Lucifer stopped pacing and stared into his brother's eyes with false pity, "that Daddy isn't coming home after all?"

"How dare you insult him," Michael replied icily.

"Still a touchy subject, then?" Lucifer clicked his tongue, "Daddy issues are always the worst, but you know—"

"You should be treating me with more respect, Lucifer. I am your eldest brother."

"And you betrayed me!" Lucifer's composure melted away in that flash of rage, and a wound in his side shone through his shirt momentarily. He covered it with his hand and turned away, gathering his wings around himself protectively. He hated being so visibly weak in front of Michael, _because of_ Michael.

"What would you have me do, Lucifer? Disregard our father's wishes and rebel with you, all in the name of your pride? You're no better than the humans that you have gone through all this trouble to hate. Your pride has consumed you the same way it consumes them."

Lucifer turned sharply around again, and stood toe-to-toe with Michael as he growled through gritted teeth, " Don't you dare put me on the same level as those cockroaches. We are _archangels,_ Michael. We are not equals with humans. You knew that, and you still chose them over me."

"I did no such thing, Lucifer. I chose Father's orders over your pride, and you would have done better to do the same," Michael replied evenly. Lucifer turned away and resumed his pacing, staring Michael down in a tense moment of silence before he began speaking again with his calm indifference restored.

"My pride—" Lucifer began, but Michael interrupted him again.

"Your pride is what started all of this," he pointed an accusing finger at his brother as his wings spread, unfolding from their resting position for the first time in their conversation, "Your pride is why our Father left. Your pride is why I have no choice but to kill you!"

"Then go right ahead," Lucifer replied tepidly, "If insulting me, fighting me, and imprisoning me wasn't enough, then by all means kill me, if this is what you want."

"I don't want this, Lucifer!" Michael exclaimed, his calmness fading and his frustration showing itself. "You may be wrong, and you may be disobedient, but you are still my brother. Killing you is the last thing I want. But that's not why I'm here."

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up and he turned his palms towards the ceiling as he asked, "Then why are you here? Not for tea and a heart-to-heart, I imagine." Michael set his jaw, and Lucifer groaned. "That _is_ why you're here? Of course. You want to reason with me, and try to change my mind."

"This petty feud has gone on long enough—"

"Petty?" Lucifer echoed indignantly, "You betrayed me and locked me away in Hell!"

Michael talked over Lucifer as if he hadn't interrupted, "It's time you accepted that the people on this planet are here to stay, and it serves no purpose and does no good to keep fighting. Angels are dying, Lucifer. Entire garrisons are gone."

"I got imprisoned in Hell for this," Lucifer's tone was menacingly grim, "And you can threaten me all you want, but I am not backing down." He looked up at the ceiling, extending his arms upwards towards it, and raised his voice, "Elvis has left the building! You can flaunt your loyalty to him all you want; he's not coming back, Michael. You need to accept that, or we're going to have a serious problem."

Michael glared at Lucifer, the nagging doubt stoked by his brother's words but his determination was still firm. "I tried to warn you, brother. When the time comes and you have your true vessel, I will do what needs to be done. You will pay for your transgression."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and sang out in a tired voice, "As if I hadn't heard that before." But when he looked back where Michael had been standing, the angel was gone.


	3. Family Matters

Thanks to Dean's memories, Michael now knew that Gabriel had been hiding himself amongst the humans as a trickster. It had been thousands of years since he'd last seen his youngest brother; and they hadn't parted on good terms. It was following an argument with Michael that Gabriel had left Heaven, never to be seen or heard from again until now.

It had taken some time, but Michael had finally pinpointed his brother's location: a small town in Minnesota, where he was acting as a mailman and playing his usual tricks on the suburban neighborhood his route ran through. Michael had observed Gabriel's routine from afar for two days before he was confident that he would catch him at the right time to talk.

He watched as Gabriel sauntered up to the door of his apartment, and waited until he had closed the door before crossing the parking lot to approach him. Michael knocked on the door, and waited patiently for his brother to respond.

Gabriel opened the door, and his eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw his oldest brother standing in front of him in the form of Dean Winchester.

"Hello, Gabriel," Michael greeted his brother.

"Michael," Gabriel managed to murmur in disbelief, backing half a step away.

"It's been a long time, little brother," Michael appraised Gabriel's appearance, noting that he did not appear to be armed.

"Dean said yes," Gabriel narrowed his eyes and stared into Michael's, as if searching for any signs of Dean's presence. "Did you-?"

"Dean is safe, the vessel is fine. I am not a ruthless killer, and you know that." Michael felt a nervous scratching in his head, and he could hear Dean demanding answers for what Gabriel had begun to ask.

"I don't know anything about you, Michael," Gabriel replied, backing away as Michael walked into the apartment, "Not anymore. The last time I saw you, you had your blade to Lucifer's throat. And the last I heard, you'd killed Anna. There's not a lot of evidence in your favor right now." Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise at Gabriel's knowledge of Anna, and the younger angel continued, "I may not get the memos anymore, but I keep tabs on you. All of you. And the despicable things you've been up to."

Michael smiled at his youngest brother, but it was neither friendly nor warm. "Anna was trying to intervene in matters with which she had no business. She tried to kill Mary Winchester, to prevent the birth of Sam and Dean. I had no choice."

"Anna would have listened to you if you'd reasoned with her and given her an order, because she respected you as her superior. Of course you had a choice; you just chose to kill rather than reason because it's easier and it's the way our Father would have done it," Gabriel spat bitterly, jabbing a finger at his brother.

"I'm not so sure she would have listened," Michael stopped advancing on his brother and his cold smile hardened back into a firm line as he continued, "She had rebelled and fallen, like you. There's no telling what a fallen angel will do."

"So is that why you're here? Are you going to kill me too?" Gabriel asked, spreading his arms in invitation. Michael could see through him to the fear in his eyes, despite the indignant façade he was trying so hard to make convincing.

"I could ask you the same question," Michael replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"The only reason I won't kill you now is because I don't do things the way you and the rest of our family does things. That, and right now I respect Dean too much for the sacrifice he has agreed to make. He is the most arrogant, stubborn son of a bitch I have ever met, but he's really come through on this one."

Michael tilted his head curiously at his brother before staring off into space for a moment and saying, "Yes, I saw in Dean's memory that you were very adamant about the Winchesters accepting their roles as vessels. And yet you claimed to be on neither Heaven nor Hell's side in this war. So why did you insist on them becoming the vessels, Gabriel?"

"You know why," Gabriel stared his brother down, unable to prevent himself from raising his voice, "I'm sick of all the fighting! It's why I left in the first place, but now it's started all over again!"

"All of this is happening because of Lucifer! If he hadn't defied our father's orders—" Michael began hotly, but Gabriel interrupted him.

"He started it!" Gabriel mocked his brother in a childish voice and a sneer. "Grow up! Yeah, he started it and you overreacted. Not everybody wants to do what Daddy says, so get over it, and leave me and the rest of this planet out of it!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" Michael's voice richocheted off the walls in the small apartment, and Gabriel flinched in a fleeting moment of fear. "I am your eldest brother! I raised you, and I deserve—"

"You didn't raise me!" Gabriel argued, "Lucifer did! You and Raphael were too busy kissing our Father's feet to bother with me."

"You _are_ taking a side, then," Michael observed coolly.

"No I'm not. I want you to stop being so obsessively loyal to a Father who abandoned his children, and I want Lucifer to stop throwing a temper tantrum. I just want all of this to stop."

"You dare to criticize our Father for leaving when you yourself left your family behind as well? You are more similar to our Father than you are willing to admit."

Gabriel looked as though he'd been stricken, but he recovered momentarily and responded with, "I wouldn't know how similar we are. He wasn't exactly around when I was growing up."

"Are you jealous, Gabriel?" Michael asked, and the calm in his voice seemed to anger Gabriel further.

"Jealous?" He repeated with an incredulous laugh, "Are you kidding? Michael, I am not jealous. I am angry, and I am tired of watching my brothers tear at each other's throats. I want this petty fighting to stop. I don't care anymore who kills who. I just want it to be _over._" Michael was at a loss for how to respond to this, and Gabriel added in his silence, "And the humans have done nothing to deserve the destruction you have brought down upon them."

"As it is in Heaven, so shall it be on Earth," Michael replied calmly.

"They have nothing to do with any of this," the younger brother insisted, but Michael shook his head slowly.

"They have everything to do with it, brother, you just don't understand—"

"No, I understand," Gabriel advanced on Michael now, "This isn't about the humans, or Lucifer, or Hell or Paradise on Earth. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to—"

Michael smiled pityingly and interrupted with, "To my family? Have you forgotten that I have access to Dean Winchester's memories? I know he said those same words to you before."

"No, Michael," Gabriel pointed at his brother, his eyes piercing Michael's menacingly, "This is about you being too afraid to stand up to our Father, and you know it."

"You saw what happened to our brother when he rebelled. I know better than to follow in his footsteps."

"I cannot believe you right now!" Gabriel threw his hands up in utter exasperation. "His punishment was your doing!"

"His punishment was a direct order from our Father! I had no choice but to do as I was told. And even if it hadn't been, I still would have done it because disrespecting and disobeying our Father is blasphemy!"

"You would have done it anyway? You just don't care. You don't care about your brothers or the humans… all you care about is Father and his orders."

"I am a good son," Michael insisted, "I respect my Father and do as he says because I am a good son."

"You don't get it," Gabriel murmured, turning away and pressing his fingertips to his temples, "None of you get it!" He turned back around to face his brother again and said, "Our Father didn't want us to blindly obey his every command. He wanted us to love him and each other and respect all of creation. He didn't want us to tear each other apart to prove our loyalty."

"I did as I was told. I did what he asked of me when he asked."

"No you didn't! Don't you remember? He created man and asked us to respect these new creatures, this new species. They were different from the others he'd created, they were made in his own image. He asked us that one simple favor, and none of you listened!"

"I listened!" Michael argued, "I obeyed!"

"Maybe right away you did, but not now you're not," Gabriel countered, "Look at what you're doing! People are dying because of this crusade you've put yourself on! That's not what our Father asked you to do!"

Michael was unable to mask his frustration now, and he exclaimed, "Lucifer disobeyed, and he had to be punished for it! Now he continues to disobey our Father, and he intends to destroy mankind out of spite and in the name of his swollen pride. I tried to reason with him, and he refused to listen. I tried to be fair the last time, and imprisoned him rather than killed him. But now he continues to rebel and be prideful, and so I have no choice but to put an end to his misbehavior permanently!"

Gabriel no longer looked furious, but instead piteous. "You think killing Lucifer will bring our Father back."

This intuitive observation startled Michael, but he asked, "What do _you_ think, Gabriel?"

"I think this has gone too far," Gabriel said gently, but firmly.

"You're right," Michael sighed, his exhaustion no longer hidden behind a mask of cool confidence like the good soldier he was supposed to be, "but it's too late to turn back now. I'm sorry."And with a flurry of wings and in the blink of an eye, the eldest archangel was gone, leaving the youngest to absorb his parting words.


	4. Coercion

"…will not fight until Lucifer has his True Vessel," Castiel was standing in the doorway of Bobby Singer's library, discussing the approaching battle between Michael and Lucifer, when the eldest archangel himself appeared. Bobby's reaction to Michael's sudden entrance was to grab his shotgun, while Castiel simply turned and looked expectantly at his brother with a grim look set into his face.

Michael noted Sam's absence and asked, "Where is Sam?"

"Why do you care? He ain't your vessel," Bobby demanded, either not realizing or not caring that the shotgun was not a threat to Michael, pointing it steadily at the archangel's legs from where he stood behind the desk.

"Is he looking for Lucifer?" Michael asked, ignoring Bobby and looking directly at Castiel.

"Do you wish to speak with him?" Castiel asked, motionless but for his wings that had tightened against his back since Michael's appearance.

"No. I'm here to talk to you, Castiel," Michael replied, and looking at Bobby for the first time, added, "Alone."

Bobby's mouth flattened into a firm line, but he reluctantly set the shotgun back down on the desk and muttered, "I'll be out back washing the Impala." Brushing past the two angels, he grumbled to himself, "Damn angels," and stomped out of the room. They heard a back door slam, and Michael studied Castiel while Castiel studied his feet.

"How long has Sam been missing?" Michael asked, almost gently.

The younger angel's reply was quiet: "He left last night. He usually drives the Impala, but he took one of Bobby's cars instead this time. I've assumed that this means he has decided to seek out Lucifer."

"As I suspected. And so the time grows near, Castiel," Michael approached the battered angel as he continued, "I need to know if you are on my side." Despite being less than a foot apart now, Castiel still avoided Michael's gaze, looking at the books on the desk behind him, at the Devil's trap painted on the ceiling above him, everywhere except at the eldest archangel who stood before him. As an angel, Castiel could see better than, say, Bobby or Sam, that it was Michael, but it was still disconcerting that he was in Dean's body.

"I know why you're here, Michael. But as you know, I am supposed to protect the Winchesters—" Castiel began, but Michael interrupted him with a cold smile.

"No, Castiel, you were supposed to raise Dean Winchester from perdition so that I could take him as my True Vessel for the approaching battle with my brother. Sam Winchester is not your charge, and Dean is my vessel, so you are obligated to be loyal to me now."

"I am not obligated to do anything," Castiel replied firmly, finally looking at Michael.

"Castiel, you need to dismiss these irrational human thoughts from your mind. Free will is an illusion and it does not exist. All roads lead to the same destination." The archangel laid a hand on the smaller angel's shoulder, who simply stared at it with a strange look on his face. Michael was having difficulty in figuring out how to best get through to this angel, as he was acting and thinking like a human—and of all humans, like a Winchester—but he was still an angel nonetheless.

It looked as though Castiel wanted to shrug the hand off, like it was some sort of insect, but he finally looked away from it and said, "We are willing to test that for ourselves." The hand dropped off his shoulder.

Michael's eyebrows shot up and he asked, "You're not taking it on faith that it's true? Does that mean you're losing your faith?" Castiel offered no response, and instead trailed a finger across the faintly salted desktop. "You truly are a fallen angel now, Castiel. This is a new low for you."

"Angels are falling and dying everywhere, and you don't question it or try to stop it," Castiel pointed out evenly, "I find that to be much lower than having some doubts."

"Are you putting yourself above me?" Michael's eyebrows were dangerously high now, at a level that Castiel noted would have only been reached in the past when Dean was extremely angry. Michael was having a hard time controlling himself in the presence of this once-reliably faithful angel, who was now fallen and faithless like his brother.

Castiel chose his next words carefully, looking down at his feet and then back up at Michael as he said, "Not by rank, no. But I suppose, going by morals and priorities, yes."

"Castiel, I came here to speak with you because—"

And in a move that the angel never would have pulled a year ago, Castiel interrupted Michael and finished his sentence for him, "Because as a fallen angel with questionable faith, you wanted to confirm whether I was on your side or Lucifer's in the approaching battle, I know. But you should know better than to question my loyalty to God."

"Not five minutes ago, you admitted that you're losing faith. You—" Once again, Castiel bravely interrupted the archangel.

"I am beginning to lose faith in my brothers and sisters, but I am not losing faith in God."

Michael was pleasantly surprised by this information, and replied, "I am pleased to hear that, Castiel. But I am still upset by your lack of faith in me." Michael paused, and waited for Castiel to make eye contact before going on to say, "Take a moment to consider the implications of your free will theory. If you believe destiny can be avoided, you are implying that I do not have to kill my brother, but that I am doing it anyway. Out of… what, exactly? Spite? Anger? Do you think I would kill Lucifer if I could avoid it?"

Castiel maintained calm eye contact with Michael as he replied tonelessly, "My uncertainty regarding that point is why I am hesitant to trust you."

Michael's eyebrows shot up again, clearly taking a great deal of offense to Castiel's remark. Leaning into the angel's face, Michael snarled, "You have killed our brothers and sisters and sacrificed yourself countless times for this arrogant man, and yet you refuse to fight for me just once? You are _my brother, _Castiel, and I am your superior!"

Castiel neither leaned away from Michael's face nor showed any signs of alarm or fear, and instead replied evenly, "I do not belong to you, and I am not your subordinate."

"Watch what you say, Castiel," a sudden calm had overcome Michael as he took a step backwards, and it frightened the younger angel. "I am the one in full control of this beloved human of yours."

Castiel's eyes flashed, his calmness evaporating, and he began, "If you cause any—" but never finished his sentence, because Michael had vanished.


	5. No

Lucifer was leaning against a gravestone, his wings fully extended but hanging loosely behind him. He preferred being outside while in human form; there was never any space in the cramped human buildings to extend and relax his wings. Similarly, he was temporarily lengthening Sam Winchester's leash by allowing him to speak. It was all internal, of course; he wasn't removing the leash, after all.

"So are you going to kill him?" Sam asked; his soul had dimmed a bit in the past week, and his fatigue and despair were beginning to overcome him. Between Sam's initial resistance to killing, and then eventually succumbing to the rage (after some skillful coercion on Lucifer's part), the soul of the oversized cockroach Lucifer was occupying had exhausted itself.

"You know, it was cute at first, your little crusade for the higher ground thing, but now it's beginning to get on my nerves," Lucifer replied as he blew through a blade of grass to make a peculiar sound; it was one of a few human tricks he'd discovered while rummaging through Sam's memories.

"But he's your brother," Sam argued. Arguing? How dare he, this petty man, argue with the most fearful of the archangels! Lucifer was not going to allow that, not today when he was already in a bad mood.

"And he'll kill me if I don't kill him first. It's a simple plan, Sam. I'm not going to let you talk if you're just going to lecture me and argue," and with that, the archangel put a lid on Sam's box and tucked it into his subconscious.

A few minutes later, there came the sound of angel wings, and then: "Lucifer."

The younger brother tossed away the blade of grass he'd been toying with and stood to his full height to face Michael. The height advantage Sam had over Dean was what Lucifer liked best about this vessel, and for once he was bigger than his oldest brother. The archangels were standing about 20 feet apart, and Lucifer's hand was on the angel blade inside his jacket while Michael's arms hung limply at his sides.

"I want to talk to you, brother," Michael began, tired eyes meeting his brother's.

Lucifer made a face with one eyebrow raised and one side of his mouth twitched upwards. "It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?" He asked humorously, almost scoffing at his older brother.

"Lucifer, please. I've realized that maybe—Maybe I was wrong. I want—"

But the other angel shook his head and raised a finger to his brother for silence. "Too little, too late, brother. I've spoken to Gabriel, by the way. I know what you said to him, about me." He paused to let Michael take that in, and the older brother bravely but reluctantly maintained eye contact, waiting for Lucifer to continue. "Any bridges between us have long since been burned to the ground." The two held wordless eye contact for a solid minute, and each brother saw that their decisions were made in that silence. Nevertheless, Michael gave his brother one more opportunity.

"This is your last chance, Lucifer. Will you stop with this blasphemous rebellion?" Michael's right hand was fingering the open zipper of his jacket, ready to draw his blade from the inside pocket, but not committing to it just yet.

"No." Lucifer's mouth was set into a tight, thin line, and once Michael's hand slipped inside his jacket, Lucifer drew his own blade and launched himself at his brother.

The archangels locked arms, neither giving an inch to the other as they clutched each other's wrists in one hand and their blades in the other. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Michael was frightened by the look in his younger brother's eyes: the last time they'd fought, Lucifer was fearful and hurt; but this time, he was ferocious and vengeful. Michael could not afford to show mercy in this battle the way he had before.

They heard a rustle of wings, too light to be an archangel, and after shoving each other away, they both turned to see Castiel, the sad angel who had lost his way in becoming too attached to his charge. He was undoubtedly here in some sort of last-ditch effort to save his precious human charges. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Michael sent Castiel flying backwards against a tombstone, bound invisibly against it and rendered incapable of speech.

Lucifer had mistaken Michael's gesture to be aimed at him, and he responded with a second lunge. He managed to jab Michael's upper arm, but the older angel twisted Lucifer's wrist in the process of deflecting the blow, attempting unsuccessfully to disarm him. His younger brother snarled in pain, but did not release his blade. Michael thrust forward with his own, but Lucifer jumped back from it and snatched at Michael's arm clumsily as it withdrew, but missed.

Both of them knew, as archangels, this could easily have been an all-out, large scale battle if they used their powers, but it was an unspoken agreement that this was a much more personal situation that required intimate hand-to-hand combat. Rolling in the dirt and throwing punches was the only way this fight was going to be fought.

There was another unexpected rustle of wings, but definitely an archangel this time. Annoyed at being interrupted again but intrigued at the arrival of an archbrother, the two turned to find Gabriel determinedly striding towards them.

"You have no place here, Gabriel," Michael scolded his youngest brother, his blade pointed at Lucifer, but a threatening glare directed at the archangel who was nearly within arm's reach now.

"Gabriel—" Lucifer began, about to agree with Michael, but the smaller angel was now standing between the two, and he seized his brothers by the wrists. Lucifer winced at the pressure on his raw injury.

"Did nothing I say to either of you mean anything?" Gabriel demanded, looking angrily from one to the other, "This fighting has got to stop now, before somebody gets killed!"

"I already told you—" Michael started to say, but Gabriel cut him off.

"I'm not having this argument again. Just stop fighting!" Gabriel shoved his brothers away from each other, and this extra twist on Lucifer's already injured wrist caused him to draw it back, yowling in pain. Michael mistook this as a renewed attack advance, and responded with an enthusiastic jab towards Lucifer's gut, while distractedly shoving Gabriel out of the way. Lucifer countered Michael's jab by seizing his arm and trying to distract him with repeated thrusts of his own blade while squeezing Michael's arm in an attempt to disarm him.

Lucifer's jabs at Michael's midsection kept missing, as the eldest archangel continually dodged them, so in a quick and unexpected move, Lucifer jabbed at Michael's left leg and got a solid hit. Michael roared in pain, as the blade had sunk in pretty deep, and when Lucifer yanked it out, the eldest archangel miraculously remained standing, despite the fact that he was bleeding profusely now.

Taking advantage of Michael's distracted and weakened state, Lucifer thrusted once more, aiming this time at his brother's torso. Michael had unthinkingly leaned into Gabriel after being stabbed in the leg, and he pushed off of Gabriel to leverage himself out of the way of the blade, and only just in time. But in removing himself from the line of fire, Michael had accidentally put Gabriel directly into the path of Lucifer's blade, and it sunk into the youngest archangel's gut nearly to the hilt.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze as Lucifer realized what he had done and Michael saw what he had caused. Gabriel's face hardly had time to register shock before he fell to his knees before Lucifer, with Michael barely standing beside the mortally wounded angel. Lucifer bent and slowly withdrew his blade from Gabriel's midsection, but his younger brother appeared to be unaware of his surroundings and even of himself.

As Lucifer looked on in disbelief, a blinding white light and radiating heat burst from the body at his feet. The arm that held his blade went up instinctively to shield his eyes from the light energy eminating from his brother who was now engulfed in holy flame, screaming until the light faded and all that remained was a bloodied human corpse and—visible only to the angels—the singed black remains of the archangel Gabriel, youngest of the four.

Lucifer's arms dropped limply to his sides, still absorbing what had just happened. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw Michael—pale now, from the blood loss coming from his leg wound—with a curious expression on his face, almost like a fierce kind of pity, when suddenly he felt a sharp pain run through his stomach.

Michael pulled his blade back as quickly as he'd thrust it into his brother, and felt like he was watching from a distance as his younger brother determinedly remained standing while he burst into white flame, roaring until the fire extinguished as suddenly as it had began, until finally he collapsed onto the ground beside his fallen brother. Michael now stood alone, his vessel weakening by the second, with his two younger brothers' blackened remains at his feet.

Kneeling on the burnt and bloodied grass, Michael took Lucifer's blade and searched Gabriel's vessel for the youngest archangel's blade; he couldn't find it. The youngest brother had come to make peace between Michael and Lucifer, and he had come unarmed.

Remembering Castiel, Michael remained on the ground, painfully aware of his vessel's greivous injury, and waved away the bindings on the angel. Standing and clearing his throat, Castiel approached Michael and said tonelessly, "After you evacuate your vessel, I can heal him to ensure your promise to him is kept, as long as you evacuate safely."

Michael nodded and turned his pale face to the sky. As the archangel prepared to leave Dean Winchester's body and return to his true form, Castiel spoke again.

"I suppose this is what you would call a 'victory,'" the angel's gaze was on the remains of two angels and two humans, only four of many casualties in the angels' war.

"No," Michael replied gravely, glancing once more at what was left of his younger brothers before looking back up at the sky. In a flash of white light, he was gone.


End file.
